Aisubeki Dearest
by Neko-Neko Faust VIII
Summary: Dearest" can a simple word really be that precious to someone? Obviously, to Elle L'Ciel itrnis, and when she is abandoned by those she loves, can her first love remember her? And what about her sister, Iron Maiden Jeanne?rnJeannXMarcoXOCXOC (multichapter
1. My Dearest

Aisubeki Dearest

A/N: I wanted to take a break from the comedy I just finished, and do an OC fic concerning Marco…Yes, I do bash Marco quite a lot, and I pair him with Lyserg, whom I also like with Jeanne, and Ren…ah, so confusing. This is rather serious, and it's romantic as well! Yay! This story is dedicated to KagenoKatana, sakuuya, and Satine89! You are the best!! I hope one of you reads this! Well, enjoy the story, and it may be a tearjerker in the end…gloom

PS: "Aisubeki" means "dearest" in Japanese, this word has a lot of meaning to the main character, Elle, and it shall be explained later on…moreover, if you are wondering why Kye is speaking a bit of Japanese to Elle, it is because he is teaching his little "French Tenshi." - Subarashiki, ne??? (Kye will be introduced later on -)

Prologue: My Dearest

The flames danced and flew in front of her face as they climbed up the wooden pillar, teasing her to inhale the blackened, thick, hazy smoke that was floated up from the unforgiving pile of wood that lay below.

Her eyelids were heavy with fatigue and the desire for her tortured soul to finally sleep, but she must not give in until the final dance, until the final flame would bud from the bottom of the heap and she could feel it burn through her bone.

The heavy, knotted ropes that were tied in tangles around her body to bind her, chafed at her wrists and ankles, indenting her skin…the rough sackcloth shift she was clothed in, and the paper cap of the condemned rest atop her shining oaken-gold hair…she was eternally damned, betrayed by the laws of man, once and for all, now and forever…

So why did she welcome the pain?

Because it was her dear pain.

Because she could see the energy that reflected her in his eyes, the energy that kept them both alive.

He had always warmed her, held her, and now her breath was quickening, and he was still standing close by her, looking out a wrinkle in time, across the great divide that had always separated them.

The sunset came, shining a chain of endless ring across the bloodied red skies…

She wanted to go beyond her heart and her words, but could not, and oh how it pained her!

Threated with excommunication and hellfire if she did not confess to a crime she did not commit, the poor maiden burst into unrivaled tears, crying, "Sweet Jesus, do you not care?" and falling to her knees.

So much torture she had endured, so much humiliation by the drunken boors of guards set before her cell, so very many wounds…

All for the one who had committed the crime…her dearest beloved…

But she was not afraid of death, only afraid of how she would meet it, and she knew how she would.

She would meet death just as she had planned, for the sacrifice of her own life.

As she had told her confession to the bishop and the authorities, for fear of not being believed or her beloved to be found as the true perpetrator of such a horrific murder as was played out by him, which he was.

She would die and meet death as a wicked seductress, as a deceiving conjurer of bloodthirsty avarice and unfaithfulness who merely played with the strings of the loved ones she saw as puppets.

But it was not true…he had played her as a puppet.

Loving him so consumed in that manner, she would do anything for him…and that meant anything, even dying and knowing he was somewhere in the crowd, watching her infernal demise…

It all but pierced her heart with a poison-tipped arrow.

The flames stung her legs as they rose steadily, as if being urged by the jeering, bloodthirsty crowd to keep going and give the wench what she "deserved."

"Burn her and the devil she made love to!" cried an onlooker passionately, fist in the air.

"Die, you bloody infidel!" screamed another, brandishing a fist as the first one had.

The speech heard at her execution was all the same, and as they watched the flames shed away her once petal-soft skin, the cheering grew louder…so loud that it made her head spin…

In fact, it seemed that everything was causing her head to spin….the smoke grown thick, suffocating even…

She winced as the fire tore and ripped at her bosom…the end was coming, and she was trying to kill the pain, however only more came as she struggled now at the ropes that had fallen in ashes around her feet.

The flames crept silently up her, soft voices like rolling thunder.

In her last moments, the rowdy masses had seemed to quiet, in reverance at the presence of death looming over the young maiden's shoulders…she found an opportunity to speak before darkness set in upon her and red started to cloud her vision.

"Even if there is a wound from yesterday…even if there is a painful today…I can still believe that I can open my heart…." she murmured, her voice echoing in the otherwise empty space…she could feel skin peeling from her throat….

"If I am denied Christ, I do not care!! But if I am denied love, then that is the end of everything!!!!" she shouted, her voice booming with renewed although brief power.

As she felt herself slipping from this world into the next, she could pick up his voice from the crowd…

"I love you and will wait for you forever, my dearest…Elle L'Ciel…"

"As will I wait, my dearest…."

And as the last words escaped her quiet mouth, the new moon faded and the darkness prevailed, lighted only by the flames that engulfed her immortal boy.

"My dearest."

End of Prologue: My Dearest

A/N: That was creepy, was it not? I wanted the opening scene to have impact, so I opened it with Elle's past, and everything.

Don't worry, this is not alternate universe, it was just in Elle's past. - Tragic, ne? Well, I am not going to give away next chapter but I will say that it will not be tragic nor cryptic…but guess what? Kye was introduced in this chapter anyway, and so was Elle, and I suppose next chapter I shall open it with Jeanne and Marco…yes! I just got a great scene and plot in my head! Thus far it barely had a plot, and it isn't Mary-Sue at all!!! Okay, now I suppose you REALLY do want to read the next chappie! I shall get on it, as soon as I read some ficcies and take a little rest…that story Darkened Whispers really took it out of me, that it did.

Ja Ne- Neko-Neko Faust VIII


	2. Sisters

Aisubeki Dearest

A/N: I wanted to take a break from the comedy I just finished, and do an OC fic concerning Marco…Yes, I do bash Marco quite a lot, and I pair him with Lyserg, whom I also like with Jeanne, and Ren…ah, so confusing. This is rather serious, and it's romantic as well! Yay! This story is dedicated to KagenoKatana, sakuuya, and Satine89! You are the best!! I hope one of you reads this! Well, enjoy the story, and it may be a tearjerker in the end…gloom

PS: "Aisubeki" means "dearest" in Japanese, this word has a lot of meaning to the main character, Elle, and it shall be explained later on…moreover, if you are wondering why Kye is speaking a bit of Japanese to Elle, it is because he is teaching his little "French Tenshi." - Subarashiki, ne??? (Kye will be introduced later on -)

A/N: In this fic, I am pretending that Jeanne is somewhere around 20 years old, and Marco stays however old he is, ok? And if you were wondering, Elle is 23 and Kye is somewhere around 25 - Funny how age works, ne?

Prologue: Of Younger Days

The soft sun shone through the windows of the cathredal and the grey skies were illuminated by the ravishing morning light that graced the French Rivera.

Jeanne absentmindedly ripped open an envelope in a rather un-innocent manner, nearly giving the blameless piece of paper a smoldering glare as she read that it was addressed to her. All of the other X-Laws had gone home on a summer holiday Jeanne had so lovingly given them, and she and Marco were finally alone to do as they pleased to blossom their stifled romance once more.

The elegant blonde man gave his Maiden a quizzical look, "Iron Maiden, what are you doing?"

The beautiful young girl replied, "Opening…a letter." she growled, shaking back her sheet of silvery long hair.

Marco gave her another strange look, but it quickly faded into a warm smile, and he bent over, looking into her eyes.

"Marco, please, just call me Jeanne." she said, her heavenly tone softening into something more loving.

Marco brought his face closer to hers, and indulged her in a chaste kiss, with a whisper of, "Good morning mademoiselle." and a flittering blush on Jeanne's part.

It had been a tedious dady where the voices of many unknown people had rolled as if universal tumbleweeds through Jeanne's head, and it showed on her lovely, troubled countenance as she read the letter, though as she got farther she once again felt a vibration of happiness at knowing who the sender had been.

_Dearest Jeanne,_

_Hello, it's your elder sister Elle speaking-erm-or rather, writing…but it seems as if you've gone beyond the color of skin here with your new missions with the X-Laws._

She had always known her elder sister to speak in a rather cryptic manner, but this bewildered her far more than the previous utterings…the last time she had seen her, the sweet, cynical creature, Elle had fluctuated between mortified utterings and sudden bursts of laughter, often commenting on rather pointless things that she had observed lately…and occasionally being a trifle innapropriate in the young nun's point of view…

A fragile, tremulous, lovely thing with a mind that that was peculiar only to her person, and with a vicious temper, had Jeanne only seen it thankfully once, that could possibly even frighten the holiest of saints…a girl with not her own heavenly charm but with earthly beauty as if she had grown from the soil fully grown...in fact, even though they were, sisters, but looked nothing alike in particular…save their eyes.

Both were the shade of deep garnet crimson, Jeanne's being a trifle lighter and Elle's the darker…and so if they were not alike? Does that make them strangers? No, socially it shouldn't.

However, her sister was not vulgar in the least…it was just the spirit of the poet…to comment on things either humourous or often seemingly ludicrous to ordinary human mind, and to display the curve of an ankle, the shape of the lips, to add a sensual manner to even descriptions of nature which were, nonetheless ever-present but flickering in their dying majesty.

_Rather happy with Marco I expect? I'd love to meet him, I am glad you have finally found someone…I saw your last picture and you two looked so cheerful together, even though mother and father both opposed your marriage and took it to their graves…but as I once said, "Ah, where hath the flower of the house gone?"_

_Yes, yes, now I am suspecting that you think me more jumbled than ever, but I do have one little sonnet that I have written in my solitude and darkness for you. Ah, the gold-gilded sayings that stem from the mind delving in its loneliness…so melancholy and cheerful at once…_

_Here it is: Miss Iron Maiden, why do you laugh at poor old Mr. Joker? You're quite as stiff and prim as if you'd eaten up a poker!_

_So, will you join the ever-running dance of poetry or stay as you are? You're quite good you know…oops. _

Jeanne's nostrils flared.

_I'm sorry, I was just cleaning out mother and father's house once on a visit there, and I found them within a locked box…of course that was a few years ago, but it has taken until now to reconcile my sin to you, dearest sister._

_If you wish to become a poet, the offer is always there, but it's a lifetime commitment because poets must die before they become famous. _

_I'm doing well, very bored, but well, I suppose…I wish you a good summer, and beware if someone comes to call at your door sometime, I may be coming over…yes, all the way from dearest London!_

_Yours eternally (really I mean it), _

_Ell L'Ciel_

At the end of the sweet-worded thought shocking communication, Jeanne was both mystified and confused with an overwhelming sense of anger at her sister never telling her about the embarrassing discovery…her sister had never been so enigmatic in all her life, though she remembered in her last visit she had been a trifle _eccentric_ but not borderline abberrant as she was now…she wondered how she was doing now…

Suddenly, her pure, crimson eyes caught a statement in miniscule letters at the bottom of the page.

_PS: I got thrown out of the nunnery…but anyway, life is tough, get a helmet as the wise ones say! Hahaha! Now I'm living alone in Yorkshire, amongst the rolling purple moors and the unruly thistles that grow in suffered silence! Farewell young one!_

"…as much as I care for her…does she ALWAYS have to put the important somewhat sane passages at the end in small letters?" said Jeanne, incensed.

Marco embraced her, he had been reading over her shoulder, "You have a sister?" he asked innocently, "Why I never knew…"

Jeanne nodded, "She is a poet, she doesn't live in France, but in London…she's a nice young woman, but a little odd…and still…." she said with her control loosening. "I CAN'T BELIEVE SHE GOT HERSELF THROWN OUT OF THE CONVENT!!!" she gasped.

Marco's eloquent blue eyes held a puzzled gait, "What…? But Jeanne…how did she manage to do that? Please do not tell me she ran away."

Jeanne wagged a finger at her beloved, "No, in fact the opposite…she was chased away herself! I don't know how, or exactly why, but somehow Elle had managed that feat."

"Elle…huh? What…a beautiful name…" he said dreamily.

Jeanne stared at Marco, estranged.

_A/N: Anyone who know has thoughts in their head about Elle and Marco, are half-right…The true (name)X(name) of the story is…_

_JeanneXMarco (one-sided)XOCXOC(completely head-over heels in love…guess who it is? 'Tis the coupling of Elle and Kye…this story shan't be over for a while, and yes, I do actually speak like this…- Please review or I won't do any more chapters and I shall delete this fic. Really I will, I know 'tis childish but I MUST GET REVIEWS!!!!_

_PS: ElleXKye 4ever!_


	3. Cliches and the Tears That Are Sudden

Aisubeki Dearest

A/N: I wanted to take a break from the comedy I just finished, and do an OC fic concerning Marco…Yes, I do bash Marco quite a lot, and I pair him with Lyserg, whom I also like with Jeanne, and Ren…ah, so confusing. This is rather serious, and it's romantic as well! Yay! This story is dedicated to KagenoKatana, sakuuya, and Satine89! You are the best!! I hope one of you reads this! Well, enjoy the story, and it may be a tearjerker in the end…gloom

PS: "Aisubeki" means "dearest" in Japanese, this word has a lot of meaning to the main character, Elle, and it shall be explained later on…moreover, if you are wondering why Kye is speaking a bit of Japanese to Elle, it is because he is teaching his little "French Tenshi." - Subarashiki, ne??? (Kye will be introduced later on -)

A/N: In this fic, I am pretending that Jeanne is somewhere around 20 years old, and Marco stays however old he is, ok? And if you were wondering, Elle is 23 and Kye is somewhere around 25 - Funny how age works, ne?

Chapter Two: Stifled Spirit

Elle restlessly shuffled in her hard wooden chair, biting the black tip of the fountain pen with an air of detatchment, and staring at the blank parchment, as if beseeching it to write poems itself.

In the past few days, she had not been able to write, the words had been stifled, censored even, and she hadn't been able to do much else, merely sitting relentlessly in the same spot for hours on end, turning her brain inside itself and looking for inspiration…it was to no avail, obviously so.

With a dissatisfied sigh, she dropped the pen, and looked out of the window, her brilliant, darkly translucent garnet eyes taking in all of the rich Yorkshire scenery.

The velvet gray sky that covered the dim of the sun, the purpled, far-out, wild, grassy fields that only yielded for the wooden mahogany docks, and the wildflowers that grew helter-skelter, sweetly flourishing and feeding on the thick, nourishing air.

"Ah, 'tis the fat of the land that grows and and feeds the angelic children whose violet heads that bob on the moor!" she said triumphantly, with an attempting at an artsy façade…and then she dissipated into another period of gloom, frustrated at her lack of motivation this morning.

Elle swept back behind her ears her shining gold-brown hair and summarily, with a slight laugh, nearly concussed herself with a large midnight hued volume of poetry…

She slumped down in her chair, and then for the first time in a long while, rose from it, and took a feline-esque position on the floor…stretching her slender body with a catlike yawn.

"…perhaps….perhaps I should go for a…different approach…" she moaned pathetically, defeated.

After many fruitless attempts, and much digging inside of the depths of her soul, Elle had finallly thought of something possibly worthwhile…though it did give her an unpleasant pang in her stomach.

It was certainly something she would never show her dearest sister Jeanne, as much as she loved the girl.

_As I heard you sigh, a discontented artistry no doubt and a sensual phrase _

_I utter_

_You sprang, I flew…a soft collision, of roses and love that never ceases to_

_Horrify yet amaze me_

_And my unlearned heart._

_And yet a horrible feeling, something unbridaled and uncontrolled_

_It creeps upon you_

_And just as I thought I knew you_

_You turned once again as the hourglass_

_The love dissolved with the sugarcube_

_Juxtaposed with a skull_

Elle smiled wryly, bemused and yet excited at her work with a sense of completion and yet the need to continue…

The cold wind that seeped through the window grazed her skin and rapped at the window, "wuthering," as they said in Yorkshire…how charming the dialect was…

Her body felt warm, and comforted, for no reason at all, and then felt a sense of happiness for the first time since she had written that letter to Jeanne, and, with a sense of self-satisfaction at predicting the outcome, never was graced with a reply.

Their parents had always loved little Jeanne a good deal more than Elle, however, it was she who had made herself an outsider among them, she supposed…was it not she who had been lingering in her room in the darkness of the night? Was it not she who had run away, causing her father, who had always been far more gentle with her than her cross mother, to become grief-stricken and begin to grow harsh and unyielding? Was it not she…who had chosen to step up to the stakes that night, and while the fire consumed her, to curse her own self and to plead for reincarnation? Was it not she…who had always been torn apart and struggling against the currents of both time and fate, fruitlessly attempting to push the last grain of bronze sand back into the top half of the immortal hourglass…?

Elle shot up, rigid and straight, unmoving, unblinking…and while her body was motionless.

Her lovely eyes cried great tears.

A/N: In the next chappie something unexpected shall happen, watch out! Heh! Umm-thank you to Satine89, who was sooo nice and kindly and wonderful to review my poor, unloved little fic….I don't see why people don't read it. Oh well, I suppose I'll just write on this every now and then, and do some more things…in different catergories.


	4. Dream Reality

Aisubeki Dearest

A/N: I wanted to take a break from the comedy I just finished, and do an OC fic concerning Marco…Yes, I do bash Marco quite a lot, and I pair him with Lyserg, whom I also like with Jeanne, and Ren…ah, so confusing. This is rather serious, and it's romantic as well! Yay! This story is dedicated to KagenoKatana, sakuuya, and Satine89! You are the best!! I hope one of you reads this! Well, enjoy the story, and it may be a tearjerker in the end…gloom

PS: "Aisubeki" means "dearest" in Japanese, this word has a lot of meaning to the main character, Elle, and it shall be explained later on…moreover, if you are wondering why Kye is speaking a bit of Japanese to Elle, it is because he is teaching his little "French Tenshi." - Subarashiki, ne??? (Kye will be introduced later on -)

A/N: In this fic, I am pretending that Jeanne is somewhere around 20 years old, and Marco stays however old he is, ok? And if you were wondering, Elle is 23 and Kye is somewhere around 25 - Funny how age works, ne?

Disclaimer: I do not own SK, if I did, it would be ruined, because I am not gifted like Takei-sama.

Chapter Three: Dream Reality?

The tears almost seemed to lacerate her lovely face, in her illusions…they say that when a person weeps, that they are the most aware of everything and everyone around him. That was not true for Elle.

She was almost in a sort of stupor, without any reason as to why…physical and emotional pain overtook her, and an upsurge of dormant memories dragged her under the sands of time. In her eyes she was reluctant to go but her consciousness faded and blew her askew into the river of memories.

How painful were the wounds of a past life.

And how she remembered.

As she drifted into what seemed to be her waking, in truth she was watching a dream through her own eyes…or rather, the dream of a memory long past.

A glorious sunny day was bestowed upon the winter's harshness, and the tree leaves blew off of their final resting places in the ground, flying once more for their last sawn song. The robins sat in placid bliss and watched fate deal an ultimately cruel hand to a pretty young woman.

She had almost shoulder-length hair, whose sleek wings shone a lovely oaken-gold, and her figure rather curvy, and quite voluptous. This young woman whose waist was not imprisoned by a corset and who walked in public clad in a low necked gown, in her stocking feet.

A free-spirited soul trapped within her mortal body with no escape.

She was a very pretty young woman, we dare not say lady, for proper ladies in that time were as refined and certainly were not given liscense to run about in their stocking feet, and to display a rather large amount of bosom.

But as we have said once before, nothing vulgar emanated from her, only verse…

Had a young man gazed into her eyes, eyes that were as deep and rich as the brilliant crimson blood that dripped from the murderer's gibbet thrown into flame, he would have taken a step back…and probably been taken as mad or at least in need of a bloodletting of sorts. Her eyes were, so to say, striking, and almost frightening in their likeness.

Elle recognized this young woman who was the same age as she.

For it was she herself.

A/N: Part of a larger chappie that shall be done today as well! Or soon…it depends if I am in the mood for a delightful bit of glorious procrastination or not! :) The next chapter is still Elle dreaming about the day she met Kye, and it gets rather sweet and fluffy! I've been waiting to get some well-deserved fluff for Elle and Kye, even if soon after they were followed by a rather gloomy sheet of misery! Oh well! :) Keep on reviewing me, guys!

PS: To Satine89: I did sort of think you were dead but thank you for informing me of your presence of still being among the living! Please someone give me the lyrics to Simple Plan's "Perfect," because I need to finish a songfic for you!!!

Ja Ne

Neko-Neko Faust VIII


	5. The Day We Met

Aisubeki Dearest

A/N: I wanted to take a break from the comedy I just finished, and do an OC fic concerning Marco…Yes, I do bash Marco quite a lot, and I pair him with Lyserg, whom I also like with Jeanne, and Ren…ah, so confusing. This is rather serious, and it's romantic as well! Yay! This story is dedicated to KagenoKatana, sakuuya, and Satine89! You are the best!! I hope one of you reads this! Well, enjoy the story, and it may be a tearjerker in the end…gloom

PS: "Aisubeki" means "dearest" in Japanese, this word has a lot of meaning to the main character, Elle, and it shall be explained later on…moreover, if you are wondering why Kye is speaking a bit of Japanese to Elle, it is because he is teaching his little "French Tenshi." - Subarashiki, ne??? (Kye will be introduced later on -)

A/N: In this fic, I am pretending that Jeanne is somewhere around 20 years old, and Marco stays however old he is, ok? And if you were wondering, Elle is 23 and Kye is somewhere around 25 - Funny how age works, ne?

Disclaimer: I do not own SK, if I did, it would be ruined, because I am not gifted like Takei-sama.

Chapter Four: The Day We Met

She looked upon the self of her past, certainly a good lot more naïve, but blissfully so…why did things have to change?

Why indeed.

The girl walked about the gardens, caressing the trunks of both the newborn and dying trees, whispering to them, almost encouraging them to live.

Only twenty-three, and yet, so much older than the other girls in mind…

And to say that now she was less naïve? That was painful in the place where is hurt the most.

In that time, in the time of the Inquisition, only twenty-three, yet already known as, "the eccentric young woman in red," for she only wore that colour, and still in a second life, more empty than anything she had experienced, had resolved to do so, known as the "half-cracked daughter of Squire L'Ciel."

How many railleries had she endured? Surely many, though she did not care.

Elle watched herself as if she were looking into a mirror, she had not changed in the least bit, and nor had she forgotten him.

She could not bring herself to.

Why is that?

Simply because she would not.

Suddenly, a black-haired, narrow, almost agonizingly handsome man walked up to the girl…

His walk was more of a stride, though rather forced…as if trying to convey confidence and yet so downtrodden.

His free, celestial green eyes, much like hers, had the slightly sad-looking expression of wishing to leave the imprisoning frame of their bodies…

It made her wish to shed tears for this mysterious young man.

Instead, the young woman, moved by his appearance and expression, waltzed over to him, and grasped his and firmly…

Already her grip was wispy, for she had no desire to remain in an earthly world of flesh, and neither did he, for they only wished to become aerial spirits, and watch and listen…but never speak.

For words uttered are the most venomous weapon.

He was aware of her advances, and smiled a warm smile, "Hello." he said simply.

She returned the smile, with a similar greeting and a smile of her own. "How are you?"

The polite, controlled banter did not last long, knowing the two's personalities.

The young man, sensing this restless maiden's boredom, broke the ice so kindly.

"It's only a morning when the birds are out that we start to live!"

The young man shouted this, and without getting any approval, without any preamble as meant to be used by a proper gentleman, literally swept her off of her feet, her skirts swooshing in the air for all to see, much to her chagrin but slight impish joy. He picked her up and held her, than broke into a youthful run down the street.

The young woman laughed, her laugh was thoroughly enchanting, like a woodland nymph lost in the city.

He was immediately in love with her, and knew it to be so.

And when he began to laugh as well…

She was immediately in love with him, and knew it to be so.

They reached their unknown, both to them and to every soul that probably exists on our planet, destination by just the precious moment where the clock ticks and tells the moon that night has fallen.

He set her down on the lush green grass of the majestic lakeside, and he sat close beside her…they began to talk of the whimsical dreams that enamored them.

They spoke of their dreams, their goals, denouncements, personal tragedies, precious moments, even the skeletons that lay deep within the closets of their souls…

And by the end of the conversation, the young man held the young woman's soul, and the young woman, his.

Closely, they touched lips, tenderly, they embraced…

One kiss, that was all.

And oh how aromatic a kiss it was! Not chaste, not unclean, but within Nature itself and so touching in its love that it could soften a heart of granite…

So sweet and melting.

They still held each-other.

"May I ask…" spoke he, with a thoughtful pause, "What your name might be?"

She held his hand and nodded warmly.

"It is Elle. Elle L'Ciel….what is yours?"

"Kye Soleil….you're beautiful…."

The lovers laid down in the fresh spring grass that smelled of our ever-nourishing, ever-loving Earth, and as they closed their eyes, nestled together, they sang softly a heartful tune.

"_Deep in the darkness of time, my love…_

_Deep in the darkness of time._

_I hear your voice, _

_Fading quick, like the dove…_

_Deep in the darkness of time._

_My love…my love…_

_Deep in the darkness of time, my love…_

_Deep within the darkness of time…"_

A/N: I love this chappie! I hope it receives the reviews it deserves, I worked hard on this…:) I love how Elle and Kye met!! squeal Sorry. Thank you to all my reviewers, coughcoughSatine89coughcough and Satine89, please update Les Mis, so I can sing along!!! Yay! Yay 4 ElleKye 4Ever! (graffitis the bathroom wall and inhales the paint) coughcough (convulsive coughing fit) Damn you ElleKye!!!

ElleKye: What? (innocent gaze) We're just the typical doomed lovers…

Me: The typical doomed lovers who reincarnate as THEMSELVES about a few centuries LATER and---

Faust: Shut up, you'll ruin your plot secrets.

Eliza: Like those retarded soap-opera magazines.

Me: Oh, umm—to all the people I reviewed, sorry if I sounded like I'm on crack like Silva when I reviewed you, I'm not. I am but a weird girl who uses umbrellas in daylight and runs around chasing squirrels.

People I Reviewed: Silva's on crack?

Me: Of course.

All: Well, yeah.

Ja Ne- Neko-Neko Faust VIII


	6. Unexpected Melodies

Aisubeki Dearest

A/N: I wanted to take a break from the comedy I just finished, and do an OC fic concerning Marco…Yes, I do bash Marco quite a lot, and I pair him with Lyserg, whom I also like with Jeanne, and Ren…ah, so confusing. This is rather serious, and it's romantic as well! Yay! This story is dedicated to KagenoKatana, sakuuya, and Satine89! You are the best!! I hope one of you reads this! Well, enjoy the story, and it may be a tearjerker in the end…gloom

PS: "Aisubeki" means "dearest" in Japanese, this word has a lot of meaning to the main character, Elle, and it shall be explained later on…moreover, if you are wondering why Kye is speaking a bit of Japanese to Elle, it is because he is teaching his little "French Tenshi." - Subarashiki, ne??? (Kye will be introduced later on -) …umm—If you want to know their entire story, read the Authoress Note at the end, it shall explain some things…such as the Japanese! - Stay tuned, meh friends! Or..flamers! DIE FLAMERS!!!

A/N: In this fic, I am pretending that Jeanne is somewhere around 20 years old, and Marco stays however old he is, ok? And if you were wondering, Elle is 23 and Kye is somewhere around 25 - Funny how age works, ne?

Disclaimer: I do not own SK, if I did, it would be ruined, because I am not gifted like Takei-sama.

Chapter Five: Unexpected Melodies

The song rang throughout her mind, clouding her vision and making it hard to breathe, but quickly Elle regained consciousness, though she did not want to leave…such sweet memories, and they were forever lost.

She recalled, in a faint singing voice that was nearly a weak whisper, another remnant of the song…

Their eternal lullaby.

Elle lisped her beloved melody, and her voice became clear and beautiful…ringing in the hallway of her small home.

"_My dearest…won't you come back to me?_

_My dearest I cannot see…_

_Deep in the darkness of time._

_Within the sleeping poppies, your voice is sang_

_Where is my child? Where is my dearest?_

_Then make a shroud for me…_

_Deep in the darkness of time, my love_

_Deep in the darkness of time…_

_We'll cover our graves with violets.._

_Violets are blue, and my love is true…_

_Deep in the darkness of time…."_

Her lips ceased moving in speech and her voice drew out into a low whisper once more. She grew pale and, raised her white hand to the cheek of someone sitting beside her.

His breath was regular, and she, realizing that it was not a person but a worldly spectre, embraced the figure who had been watching her sing…

A cheek grew closer to hers, and Elle felt a rosy color grace her cheeks…

Lips touched, ectasy, pure bliss….

She drew back from the young man, paralyzed.

"Kye?"

A vast, substantial nod, and a grin was all the proof this lovelorn young woman required…she knew it was him.

His voice…how well she knew it!

"Kye! I've missed you…" she sighed tearfully.

He held her close, "And I you, Elle…"

They lay on the floor of the room, breathing gently, and feeling the song once again rise to power in their hearts.

Once again, each lover's soul belonged to the other…

Such a heartfelt word!

"_Do I need to travel the world, my love…_

_Deep in the darkness of time?_

_Do I need to look to the night sky, my love?_

_To uncover your loving rhyme?_

_Pas bluets sont bluets, roses sont roses…_

_Bluets sont bluets, j'aime me amour…_

_Bluets sont bluets, j'aime me amour…_

_Deep in the darkness of time, my love…_

_Deep in our darkness of time."_

The song was ended…finally…

Elle remembered the moments when the fire had singed her great garnet eyes and long lashes, the song, even then, they could not finish…

It may have been the guilt of a murderer, Kye, or, maybe the punishment of an undeserving, Elle…

It may have been both, but it did not matter now.

Within his arms, she felt the safest and warmest she had ever felt…

He the same.

Deep within, the hearts was aflame and frozen, the piercing light melting both, and setting them free…

O how souls unfettered fly and soar!

He heard her sweet breath, it did him good…

But he could not stay.

He must flee, for he knew what was coming.

But even when they would disappear once more together, she would always be his princess…

She would always be immortal.

Invincible.

The most beautiful shining star…

The door slammed open, and fell to the floor with a deafening thud.

Kye's viridescent eyes widened.

A series of people clad in blinding white filed in through the broken doorway calmly, but with an air of acute danger…

Standing behind them, a young woman with the same eyes as his love stared at him serenely.

Elle gasped, as if trying to choke.

Jeanne?!

A/N: Cliffhangeh! Yay! - I think SOMEONE actually likes this story…o god, I feel so bad for putting this on , not sorry for flamers, but sorry for the story itself! I am a crappy writer and won't deny it!

Okeh, EllKye's Little Sob Story!-

Elle was the daughter of a squire, and she was 20 when she met Kye, who was a foreigner, a Japanese to be exact…and at the time, the Inquisition was raging like a wildfire.

He was a Buddhist/Shinto, and had come to seek absolutely nothing in France, just to wander and be pleased by the landscape, much like Elle…however, he did not know of the Inquisition, and decided to show Elle a prayer and some other things, with some damned villager watching, and was found out and he had to kill the villager.

Elle knew someone had seen him kill the peasant, but wanted to die for him, and so she stepped up to the stake and died a murderess…a death for a death.

However, a day later, the scaffold hungered for blood, namely the true culprit. Kye was found. And Elle had died for nothing, for he was hung nonetheless.

Elle reincarnated into Jeanne's family (if she has one) and became her elder sister…she tried to live a normal life but in these next two or three chapters the tables really turn and Elle is completely betrayed again.

- Ja Ne- Neko-Neko Faust VIII

PS: That was the longest fricking author's note I have EVER written in my young, still blooming life…for I am but a teenager! . Weh!


	7. Illusory Happiness

Aisubeki Dearest

A/N: I wanted to take a break from the comedy I just finished, and do an OC fic concerning Marco…Yes, I do bash Marco quite a lot, and I pair him with Lyserg, whom I also like with Jeanne, and Ren…ah, so confusing. This is rather serious, and it's romantic as well! Yay! This story is dedicated to KagenoKatana, sakuuya, and Satine89! You are the best!! I hope one of you reads this! Well, enjoy the story, and it may be a tearjerker in the end…gloom

PS: "Aisubeki" means "dearest" in Japanese, this word has a lot of meaning to the main character, Elle, and it shall be explained later on…moreover, if you are wondering why Kye is speaking a bit of Japanese to Elle, it is because he is teaching his little "French Tenshi." - Subarashiki, ne??? (Kye will be introduced later on -) …umm—If you want to know their entire story, read the Authoress Note at the end, it shall explain some things…such as the Japanese! - Stay tuned, meh friends! Or..flamers! DIE FLAMERS!!!

A/N: In this fic, I am pretending that Jeanne is somewhere around 20 years old, and Marco stays however old he is, ok? And if you were wondering, Elle is 23 and Kye is somewhere around 25 - Funny how age works, ne?

Disclaimer: I do not own SK, if I did, it would be ruined, because I am not gifted like Takei-sama.

Chapter Six: Illusory Happiness

Standing in her doorway, was Jeanne! Iron Maiden Jeanne! Her younger sister, who was supposed to be in France!

"Jeanne?!" Elle said, lifting herself off of the ground and walking over to Jeanne.

She nodded, "Yes, hello Elle…" and with a rather disdainful pause, she added, "And…I don't think I've met him, though he smells of blood, doesn't he?"

Elle felt as if she had been frozen, 'blood?' she thought, why would he smell like 'blood'?

And suddenly she remembered, she remembered the day he had murdered, the day he had committed the most irreversible sin…and she had still loved him. She still did love him! And she couldn't even tell if he were alive! But Jeanne could see him…

'Oh god no…' Elle thought, panicking inside, though attempting a casual demeanor externally, 'What if she knows….what if she knows about him…' suddenly, she thought of something much worse.

'What if she knows about me…'

With a rather jerky movement, she gestured toward the velvet chair, not accustomed to being a hostess in any manner whatsoever, and said, shakily, "Please…sister, sit down…"

Jeanne looked at her sister, and wondered why she was so rather worried…she had only come in response of a letter, and from the desperate need for a bit of fresh air….of course, in her urgency to greet Elle, she may have somewhat ruined a rendevous of some sort….but then again, she had stopped a sin in progress, so, with a sense of complacency, and confusion, sat upon the soft chair, and made herself at hoem as politely as she could.

Elle turned around hastily, "Oh! Let me get you two some tea! Is that Monsieur Marco, I presume? Nice to meet you, it is truly my honor though I don't agree with your organization…excuse me!" breaking into a run, she sprinted into the kitchen, labouriously breathing, and as she disappeared into the room, both Marco and Jeanne were certain she had broken some sort of china.

And she had, they saw, as she came into the livingroom with a handsome snack and tea platter, but with some rather deep nicks in her arm.

The dark haired boy, Kye, had grown worried at her giddiness…she looked like a maid after a ten hour shift, but so youthful, and pretty…but he had never seen someone so fatigued and yet so feverishly giddy at the same time.

But that was his dearest, as unpredictable as a falling autumn leaf and then some…you could never tell where she was going, and if she indicated it in any way, it would probably be in means of that wry smile of hers.

The way she moved….how alluring!

He thought, color in his cheeks.

Kye all but slapped himself, watching Elle and her, obviously, sister, speak and catch up.

Why was he feeling like this? He knew Elle better than anyone, better than Elle knew herself! And she the same to him! However…now, after not seeing her for this long, was he filled with the renewed feelings of first love, and their first kiss? Dear god what a travesty!

Unknowingly, Elle felt the same way, stealing glances at him, and speaking the same sentences, much to Jeanne's puzzlement, like a demented wind-up toy.

"What a tangled web we weave, when we practice to deceive." was all she had said, in the time of one hour.

Jeanne had gone to Elle's room, exhausted and in need of sleep from the journey, and Kye, embarrassed, had fled to the dining room, alone, to do who knows what.

In actuality, he was writing a poem for Elle, though he did not fancy himself a poet.

"_A night sky twice as blue…_

_A sunset stopped in its majesty_

_What a blazing display of power!_

_And you, the mercurial creature of fire and ice,_

_Dancing on the bottom of a drinking glass…"_

The poor young man, frazzled, had not the same spirit as Elle, and could not flow on the words as if he were riding a wave. It required thinking for him, and that is what he did.

Meanwhile, Elle, so cruelly abandoned in the livingroom with the elegant, blonde stranger known as Marco, began to verse aloud.

"_A coffin's blackness thrice the moon_

_And twice the petty beggar_

_Before the hand of a breathless spirit_

_Before the waves as azure_

_Gardens verdant, speak, _

_Winds, beseech_

_A worldly wisdom unknowing_

_And an hourglass impaled_

_And did you, _

_Cordially,_

_Imply,_

_That a ghost was not a feeling_

_And a shadow of the eyes?"_

Marco listened to her in awe, and watched her pink lips move to the rhthym of her words…a poet…but not rigid…

It was as if she were walking on water.

But not walking either, that was far too generic, no, it was as if she were…

As if she were gliding on water.

Had he fallen for her, at first sight?

He surely hoped not.

He was in love with Jeanne, wasn't he?

Yes, his beautiful Iron Maiden.

He had to be in love with her.

Why?

Because that is simply the way his mind worked.

You serve her, you love her….you never cease.

It's against his laws.

His personal laws…and…

"Monsieur?"

Marco stopped, he had been adressed as "monsieur?"

Surely that was against Elle's nature.

She had said it through her teeth, it contradicted her personality, to follow social status…even customs….they meant nothing, she lived in the present, and occasionally…

In the past.

­­­

A/N: The next chappie! Jeanne and Marco talk about Elle! What are Elle's feelings about Marco's advances, because she doesn't love him! She never will, only Kye….and Kye finishes his poem for Elle, and recites it to her!


	8. The Gentle Scent of Blood

Aisubeki Dearest

A/N: I wanted to take a break from the comedy I just finished, and do an OC fic concerning Marco…Yes, I do bash Marco quite a lot, and I pair him with Lyserg, whom I also like with Jeanne, and Ren…ah, so confusing. This is rather serious, and it's romantic as well! Yay! This story is dedicated to KagenoKatana, sakuuya, and Satine89! You are the best!! I hope one of you reads this! Well, enjoy the story, and it may be a tearjerker in the end…gloom

PS: "Aisubeki" means "dearest" in Japanese, this word has a lot of meaning to the main character, Elle, and it shall be explained later on…moreover, if you are wondering why Kye is speaking a bit of Japanese to Elle, it is because he is teaching his little "French Tenshi." - Subarashiki, ne??? (Kye will be introduced later on -) …umm—If you want to know their entire story, read the Authoress Note at the end, it shall explain some things…such as the Japanese! - Stay tuned, meh friends! Or..flamers! DIE FLAMERS!!!

A/N: In this fic, I am pretending that Jeanne is somewhere around 20 years old, and Marco stays however old he is, ok? And if you were wondering, Elle is 23 and Kye is somewhere around 25 - Funny how age works, ne?

Disclaimer: I do not own SK, if I did, it would be ruined, because I am not gifted like Takei-sama.

Marco gazed into her eyes, pensive…..was she a goddess come to earth?

But that was a pagan sin, it was totally against Iron Maiden Jeanne…his true goddess.

Wasn't it she whom he had looked after since birth? But Elle had always been that dark little child in the corner, playing with dolls and writing down obscure verses, watching her little sister be showered in pure light.

However, when you were asked to question whether a child was really a child or not, you begin to question your own sanity. Such as she did every day.

And every day, Elle felt herself slipping farther and farther away.

Jeanne knew it too.

And what pained her most was that Kye was so blissfully unaware.

O god!

She stirred, finally, after what seemed, and was in fact, hours of utter silence..

And how great that silence had been for him! Watching the slow descent and rise of her chest as she breathed, so sultry but distant in the way that she wasn't unwilling but that she was simply unable.

She looked like a woman who had turned inward and found a great and familiar sadness there…Marco saw it within her, as she walked away.

Night had fallen as the brunette disappeared into the outdoors by the fringe of the forest.

Marco walked, sprightlike, into the bedroom he and Jeanne were…sharing.

He embraced her, and gave her a chaste kiss, longing for more and once again feeling the warm air that her sister had breathed into the bitter coldness of the house.

And now it grew warm, but forbidding.

Jeanne looked rested, and gave her blonde crusader a peck on the cheek.

She saw his expression and was troubled, "Marco…something is bothering you….would you tell me?"

He looked at her, so innocent and at the same time so knowing…her eyes were like Elle's but so much different, and hidden beneath a nunlike veil.

"Well…I would just like to know more about your sister, Elle…she didn't say much."

He subconsciously blushed.

"Well, she never says very much…" sighed Jeanne, "She doesn't move much, either. But when she does, you wouldn't like to know her…yes, it's only verse, but have you thought it's something else…?"

Marco shrugged.

"Don't be so indifferent…oh Marco, you've been like this since you met her…what's wrong?"

Finally he reconciled to Jeanne what he had been holding back for so long…or at least as the day turns into night.

That gentle scent…

Elle' scent…

Of the brilliant madness that comes with blood and fire dealt in love.

Passion subdued.

"Blood."

Jeanne gave a small start, "What?"

He repeated, "Blood."

Jeanne nodded slowly… "You mean Elle don't you?"

"Yes…" he said solemnly, eyes downcast and fiddling with the silken sheets.

"True, she has the scent of blood as much as that man Kye…it's sad. She's not listening to anyone anymore, is she?"

Marco lowered his eyes more. "Yes, and she's sad as well…it seems like she's hiding inside herself."

How little they knew. It was true of Elle, but not of Kye.

Kye was hiding outside of himself.

"_And the tumble in my heart is so betrayed_

_By rolling waves…_

_Listen…speak._

_Breathe, at least._

_My ivory statue so alone and yet loved._

_A soul lingering where earth and sky meet._

_Neither are your true place._

_I see you clinging…_

_To the cobwebs pointing downward in the wind."_

Elle took a breath…that was the last poem she would speak…for how she wanted to be silent.

To fade into shadow…

Within the clouds of light.

Behind her, he stood.

"I promised I would finish, Elle."

And so he did…but Elle knew his words before he began to lisp them.

"_Knowing you would die before_

_You reached heaven._

_But knowing you would live_

_Before you reached hell. _

_The gravedigger beckons, the hangman begs for blood,_

_And so it begins with a toll of the bell."_

He smiled, as did she…what ectasy we humans feel as we are not accepted but cast out!

A silence vow, broken of course, but it would begin soon…just as soon as he faded away, which she knew he would.

Just like always.

And then it would play his symphony, and she would fall speechless.

"_A glass moon and marble stars.._

_The sinners spell it out…_

_The illusion of a fine love."_

A/N: Next chapter ish the turning point! Sankyuu Satine89! You're the best! Thank you for the lyrics, I'll get to that as soon as I can, okay? Just be a little patient! You're doing rather well on Les Mis, a standing ovation for you!

Now to work on Hoshiko!!!!


	9. The Winding Road

Aisubeki Dearest

A/N: I wanted to take a break from the comedy I just finished, and do an OC fic concerning Marco…Yes, I do bash Marco quite a lot, and I pair him with Lyserg, whom I also like with Jeanne, and Ren…ah, so confusing. This is rather serious, and it's romantic as well! Yay! This story is dedicated to KagenoKatana, sakuuya, and Satine89! You are the best!! I hope one of you reads this! Well, enjoy the story, and it may be a tearjerker in the end…gloom

PS: "Aisubeki" means "dearest" in Japanese, this word has a lot of meaning to the main character, Elle, and it shall be explained later on…moreover, if you are wondering why Kye is speaking a bit of Japanese to Elle, it is because he is teaching his little "French Tenshi." - Subarashiki, ne??? (Kye will be introduced later on -) - Stay tuned, meh friends! Or..flamers! DIE FLAMERS!!! Sankyuu for reading and keeping with this outnumbered, disliked, lonely little fic of mine…

A/N: In this fic, I am pretending that Jeanne is somewhere around 20 years old, and Marco stays however old he is, ok? And if you were wondering, Elle is 23 and Kye is somewhere around 25 - Funny how age works, ne?

Disclaimer: I do not own SK, if I did, it would be ruined, because I am not gifted like Takei-sama.

Chapter Nine: The Winding Road

"Jeanne…what happened?" Marco said, shaking his bangs from overlapping his spectacles.

Jeanne looked back to the backseat of the little red corvette (A/N: Yes I know about the van but I wanted something different.) where her sister was slumbering in a sorrowful peace.

Her gaze wandered to her elder sister's face now. So pretty, but…sinisterly knowing.

Wicked wisdom?

I think not.

Jeanne finally answered Marco. "…I don't know…she was born in the wrong time." she finished with a serene smile.

"Hm?" his knuckles slightly tightened on the wheel. Jeanne noticed.

"She would have made a wonderful pagan princess…or a lone priestess so long ago…in the darker ages of humanity's past…when Christianity hadn't yet taken over….our cause, Marco. Maybe that is why Elle feels so strongly. Maybe that is why she barely feels at all. She's a paradox."

Marco now stared back at her, rather moronically ignoring the road.

A paradox….? He had known it when he had first heard her whispery out of thin air is if by an enchantress…

Without using any magic, Elle herself was an echantress.

His true maiden.

Jeanne looked at him pensively, knowing what he was thinking. She turned her head, and cried silently in the corner of the seat, look out the rain-splattered window and listening to the drops.

Marco snapped.

"Dammit!" he shouted, clenching the wheel and pushing on the gas pedal manically.

Jeanne still cried in the corner. Elle slept.

As the car screamed on the gravel roads of rural England, heading toward the city, Jeanne turned to him her tear-stained face.

"Marco…where are you going?" she asked…

Her state of inexorable calm, serenity, and hope had shattered….all was lost right now. But tomorrow she would be again serene, otherworldly, unhuman Iron Maiden Jeanne.

"Dammit! Damn it all to hell, Jeanne! I can't can't take this! I can't take it anymore!"

They were going 180 miles per hour…

Jeanne knew what he was going to do. And she knew first he would get rid of her.

"…and so opens the car door." Elle sighed wryly.

She had not been asleep. She was never asleep.

And she had to pretend to be. She had to pretend everything to live.

And so the corvette's door opened.

Marco's hand pushed the radiantly lovely Jeanne farther toward the edge.

And as the moving car tore on…

Jeanne, the heavenly, beautiful, sinless, pure Iron Maiden perished on the hard pavement.

Or so it may be.

A/N: We don't know if she's truly dead or not, it's up to you to decide! Of course, only I know, but who cares!! I haven't updated for a while…sorry. Not that anyone cares about poor little Aisubeki Dearest…


	10. Cruelty of Passion

Aisubeki Dearest

A/N: I wanted to take a break from the comedy I just finished, and do an OC fic concerning Marco…Yes, I do bash Marco quite a lot, and I pair him with Lyserg, whom I also like with Jeanne, and Ren…ah, so confusing. This is rather serious, and it's romantic as well! Yay! This story is dedicated to KagenoKatana, sakuuya, and Satine89! You are the best!! I hope one of you reads this! Well, enjoy the story, and it may be a tearjerker in the end…gloom

PS: "Aisubeki" means "dearest" in Japanese, this word has a lot of meaning to the main character, Elle, and it shall be explained later on…moreover, if you are wondering why Kye is speaking a bit of Japanese to Elle, it is because he is teaching his little "French Tenshi." - Subarashiki, ne??? (Kye will be introduced later on -) - Stay tuned, meh friends! Or..flamers! DIE FLAMERS!!! Sankyuu for reading and keeping with this outnumbered, disliked, lonely little fic of mine…

A/N: In this fic, I am pretending that Jeanne is somewhere around 20 years old, and Marco stays however old he is, ok? And if you were wondering, Elle is 23 and Kye is somewhere around 25 - Funny how age works, ne?

Disclaimer: I do not own SK, if I did, it would be ruined, because I am not gifted like Takei-sama.

Chapter Nine: The Cruelty of Passion

Marco was only human. He knew he hadn't killed Jeanne. Not even phased her—physically—at least….

Still he held peril within himself, the need to get rid of all his burden, and create a new burden. The burden to live for himself. Not the X-Laws. Not Jeanne.

Certainly not this fragile creature who was own the brink of mental burnout! He didn't need anyone depending on him right now.

"Marco…." Elle called into the darkness.

He turned his head, "What is it, Elle?"

"Come off it. Go be with Jeanne, you know you were made for each-other, in this world and the next. You know it. Just like…"

Elle felt herself weakening…she had been a fool to let loose, Marco didn't know about Kye…but Elle knew that Jeanne knew…and how it hurt her.

"Marco?" she called once again.

He smiled troublingly, trying to be gentle, he was breaking down as well.

Elle looked at him through pained garnet eyes and a said in a shaking voice, "It's hard to lie."

She fell limp again in the backseat of the corvette, the open window dripping lovely raindrops onto her skin.

Water feels like love, doesn't it?

And like a ripple on water, she wouldn't be caught, she gets close to you and then moves away….but someday she had let loose, and this was her downfall.

"Elle…you feel too violently, and I don't feel at all…." he said sadly, "Or is it…."

He paused as he drove into the parking lot.

"The other way around?"


	11. Flowers That Are Caged

Aisubeki Dearest

A/N: I wanted to take a break from the comedy I just finished, and do an OC fic concerning Marco…Yes, I do bash Marco quite a lot, and I pair him with Lyserg, whom I also like with Jeanne, and Ren…ah, so confusing. This is rather serious, and it's romantic as well! Yay! This story is dedicated to KagenoKatana, sakuuya, and Satine89! You are the best!! I hope one of you reads this! Well, enjoy the story, and it may be a tearjerker in the end…gloom

PS: "Aisubeki" means "dearest" in Japanese, this word has a lot of meaning to the main character, Elle, and it shall be explained later on…moreover, if you are wondering why Kye is speaking a bit of Japanese to Elle, it is because he is teaching his little "French Tenshi." - Subarashiki, ne??? (Kye will be introduced later on -) - Stay tuned, meh friends! Or..flamers! DIE FLAMERS!!! Sankyuu for reading and keeping with this outnumbered, disliked, lonely little fic of mine…

A/N: In this fic, I am pretending that Jeanne is somewhere around 20 years old, and Marco stays however old he is, ok? And if you were wondering, Elle is 23 and Kye is somewhere around 25 - Funny how age works, ne?

Disclaimer: I do not own SK, if I did, it would be ruined, because I am not gifted like Takei-sama.

Chapter Ten: Flowers That Are Caged

The sign above the parking lot, darkened by night, and isolation, read: Northern Yorkshire Mental Asylum.

Elle cringed slightly, but welcomed the solitude once more, she, only through reading, was familiar with the customs of an institution, and her inclinations toward it were wrong.

Of course, she knew that too.

But ignorance is bliss, and why do you want to know the truth?

If the truth could be dangerous…?

Marco gave a large, releasing sigh, as if metal had been lifted from his chest, as he reluctantly carried the half-aware young woman across the unmoving pavement and into the building.

The sliding glass doors were automatic…she gave an involuntary whimper of surprise, having been isolated from technology for quite awhile, and Marco looked at her suspiciously.

"Noo…" she said softly, attempting to feign a nightmare.

It was difficult for her, but it was profound to Elle how easily she could lie-that-and how many people believed her.

Quite a useful little talent.

Oh well.

As the tall blonde man moved sleepily to the front desk, he noticed how his fatigue was painfully noticeable…he wondered if they would think he to be the crazy one…but…

Elle wasn't really crazy, was she?

Just different…

The woman at the front desk looked slightly harrassed, probably from dealing with nut jobs day and night, thought Marco scathingly. He did not like disturbed people. That insanity is given to the sinful was his belief. (A/N: That's utter rubbish!)

"Hello sir…" she said tiredly. "What do you need? Let me guess…you need a little rest? One 'o those types of guys, huh?"

Marco didn't like her attitude. He would have unnerved at every possible chance he got had it not been for the flower whom he had resting in his hands.

"No…it is this young lady." he said, with a now semi-serene air that was not uncommon of him. He had regained his composure. "She had a sort of mental breakdown at her home, and I was there….and….I…."

"Yeah, yeah." she said haughtily. "I know, you took 'er here…Tell me her name, and some info, then I'll get her booked and we can get this overwith. Too many crazies out these days…'specially her, her looks are misleading, eh?" she finished with a slight laugh.

"Oh her name? Elle L'Ciel…she's French, a poetess…she lives somewhere by a moor over there…" he said, with a rather crude hand gesture, motioning toward the road.

"'Kay. That's all I need. Shut up, get some shut-eye, and lay her down over there." the woman pointed to a couch lying to the side of the lobby. "It's temporary 'till you leave, and I can get a doctor over here…we're kind of scantily staffed."

She resumed typing on the computer, and he knew by the rhythym of the clicks that she was typing in Elle's name…

He blushed….he was acting like a schoolboy again. "Why me?" he said under his breath.

Elle moved.

He stared at her, it was his goodbye…he might never see this beautiful creature again…Marco took his time.

The soft rustle of her sweater, and the sheen of her hair…her closed eyes with the long eyelashes….

Marco set her down lovingly on the couch and walked away.

"I am an X-Law…" he said to himself. "I must never let the curve of a hip, or the sparkle of a woman's eye be my downfall…"

And as he left the building, the receptionist heard him say, "I know I'm making a mistake but I don't even care anymore…."

"Maybe true flowers must be caged."

A/N: It's focused a lot on Marco lately, but in the next chapter it focuses on Jeanne (she didn't die.) and in the next it starts to mainly focus on Elle, and of course, Kye!! Also guess who else is there….you won't believe it. (hint hint…who else is british?)

And if you can't guess, I am sorry to say that while your retardation amuses me I must update something else.

Ja Ne! Sankyuu Satine89!!


	12. God Help The Outcasts

Aisubeki Dearest

A/N: I wanted to take a break from the comedy I just finished, and do an OC fic concerning Marco…Yes, I do bash Marco quite a lot, and I pair him with Lyserg, whom I also like with Jeanne, and Ren…ah, so confusing. This is rather serious, and it's romantic as well! Yay! This story is dedicated to KagenoKatana, sakuuya, and Satine89! You are the best! I hope one of you reads this! Well, enjoy the story, and it may be a tearjerker in the end…gloom

PS: "Aisubeki" means "dearest" in Japanese, this word has a lot of meaning to the main character, Elle, and it shall be explained later on…moreover, if you are wondering why Kye is speaking a bit of Japanese to Elle, it is because he is teaching his little "French Tenshi." - Subarashiki, ne? (Kye will be introduced later on -) - Stay tuned, meh friends! Or..flamers! DIE FLAMERS! Sankyuu for reading and keeping with this outnumbered, disliked, lonely little fic of mine…

A/N: In this fic, I am pretending that Jeanne is somewhere around 20 years old, and Marco stays however old he is, ok? And if you were wondering, Elle is 23 and Kye is somewhere around 25 - Funny how age works, ne?

Disclaimer: I do not own SK, if I did, it would be ruined, because I am not gifted like Takei-sama.

Chapter Eleven: God Help the Outcasts

When Elle's eyes fluttered open, she was greeted by a concrete, shining bright white ceiling…she cringed.

"Too bright…." she said, turning over and putting the thin pillow neatly on the rumpled bedsheets. She must have had a rough sleep…

Elle did not remember anything from the previous night, but suddenly it all came back upon her.

She realized rather casually where she was.

"A…mental asylum…that's nice…" she said slowly, making sure she had it correct.

She did, much to her apathy.

"Oh well…" she sighed, getting out of bed, knowing she had nothing to do, until she remembered where she had put something special.

"Why would I even think of this?" she said semi-reluctantly. "O twisted mind of mine, now I thank you, for you have bestowed upon me the joy of my notebook…." her eyes gazed downward to the white dress she was now wearing.

She looked at her coat lying on the floor, the notebook was in it, and she smiled a disturbing smile, as she opened it.

"Hmm… 'Kye…' he left a note?" she smiled now again, but it was geniune. Nearly joy…and that is what it came to be.

'Dearest….' the oaken-haired young woman winced….that precious, sacred word….

She read on cheerfully.

'Elle…I am here. I know where you are….please don't forget. Jeanne is alive and well, although she has been crying for a while…how could Marco do this…bastard. You can never tell what he's doing, damn it all!'

Reaching the end, she paused for a minute.

'My Dearest Forever, Kye.'

Elle saw something at the bottom in small letters, 'Don't let vines of madness creep upon you…they hunger.'

"Just like him…" she shrugged and knew that what he had said was true…painfully so.

She turned around, someone was behind her, "Hello."

"…" she was silent but merely turned her dark eyes to the stranger.

A little boy?

He stood there, with a polite gesture, waving at her, with his longish green hair. "My name's Lyserg Diethyl….who are you? We're roommates, so I guess we have to get to know each-other."

He shrugged. "…"

Elle turned around. What a nice little boy….she hadn't known they kept children …a friend was a friend, and the purity of such children is charming.

Or at least, to her in that moment, he seemed pure…but he was no innocent…was he?

She released herself from her stupor and spoke to him. "I am Elle L'Ciel….it's a worldly pleasure to meet you…"

He nodded, "You too."

"You know…if you smiled, I bet you would be a very handsome boy." Elle gave him a gentle smile…the best she could do considering her current conditions.

"I can't." his face remained sorrowful. "That's kind of why I'm here."

"Could I see you smile maybe once while we are both living? Any day…just promise!"

"Fine…but why….?" he said, seemingly puzzled.

Elle bent down, her willowy body was quite a bit more slender, and taller than he was. "…Because it feels nice to really smile. Maybe I suppose we could teach each-other how."

"But you're always smiling, from what I've seen so far, Elle." said Lyserg, troubled.

"Heh heh…." she laughed wryly. "God help the outcasts, Lyserg."

"Yes." Lyserg didn't know what she meant, but he supposed he'd find it out soon, in one way or another. "We'll be friends."

He was so sinisterly naïve.

"Good night….or is it morning? It doesn't matter. Let's sleep." she said, fatigued.

Elle was exhausted…as if all of the energy had been seeped from her bones. She gave Lyserg a motherly kiss on the cheek and climbed into bed.

He did as well…both were tired without knowing why…maybe it was loneliness being released.

Or maybe it was the melding together of sinister naivete and of sinister wisdom.

Maybe it was simply the bonding of the afflicted.

"What is will be. What isn't won't be. Just remember that, okay?" he said into the timeless day or night.

Elle mentally nodded.

Or….maybe…

It was the destiny of outcasts.

"God help the outcasts…" she whispered to herself.

"God help we outcasts….or nobody will…."

A/N: Creepy ending, ne? Well half of it, is because I was sick again and I spent the whole day (supposed to be at school! Damn colds….) watching anime and random movies. I watched The Hunchback of Notre Dame while I wrote this, and the 'god help the outcasts' thing really explains how Elle and Lyserg are singled out…

Someone help da gypsies! (Frollo reminds me of Javert….well, they are by the SAME author)

A/N: EVERYONE LOVES VICTOR HUGO, THE BRILLIANT CREATOR OF LES MISERABLES, AND THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME! (and something else, but I don't care about that one.)

Ja Ne for Now- Even though only the blessed Satine 89 has reviewed this, I'm going to continue! Why? Because I for one, like this story, and for second, I enjoy putting things off I shouldn't be.

PS: Does anyone remember my story, Shaman Idol? Yes? No? Well now we are all honest-to-god afraid of cows….and Javert.


	13. Insane

Aisubeki Dearest

A/N: I wanted to take a break from the comedy I just finished, and do an OC fic concerning Marco…Yes, I do bash Marco quite a lot, and I pair him with Lyserg, whom I also like with Jeanne, and Ren…ah, so confusing. This is rather serious, and it's romantic as well! Yay! This story is dedicated to KagenoKatana, sakuuya, and Satine89! You are the best! I hope one of you reads this! Well, enjoy the story, and it may be a tearjerker in the end…gloom

PS: "Aisubeki" means "dearest" in Japanese, this word has a lot of meaning to the main character, Elle, and it shall be explained later on…moreover, if you are wondering why Kye is speaking a bit of Japanese to Elle, it is because he is teaching his little "French Tenshi." - Subarashiki, ne? (Kye will be introduced later on -) - Stay tuned, meh friends! Or..flamers! DIE FLAMERS! Sankyuu for reading and keeping with this outnumbered, disliked, lonely little fic of mine…

A/N: In this fic, I am pretending that Jeanne is somewhere around 20 years old, and Marco stays however old he is, ok? And if you were wondering, Elle is 23 and Kye is somewhere around 25 - Funny how age works, ne?

Disclaimer: I do not own SK, if I did, it would be ruined, because I am not gifted like Takei-sama.

Chapter Thirteen: Insane

He shifted in his chair. The psychologist looked uneasily at his patient, who was staring at him with the air of a basilisk goddess on high.

Elle laughed to herself, being around so many more people than she was used to, she ought to cause a bit of trouble while she was at it, didn't she?

That stare of hers, not evil, not good, but almost nothing, but almost everything…

Yet another exhaustive paradox.

He adjusted his half-moon spectacles, shifted again, and faced the young woman.

"…Miss…" he paused, looking at her name on the paper….from France? "L'ciel…?"

"Mm." she muttered dreamily, half awake.

What the psychologist did not know, was that she was not only half-asleep, she was half-alive.

"I'll just ask you a few questions. None too personal so it won't bother you, alright?"

She remained silent. He took this as compliance. It was confusion.

"Here we go….a good one…."

The prematurely grayed man asked a multitude of simple questions, all met by either indefinite answers, mortified utterings, or light giggles on Elle's part, and becoming thoroughly annoyed with the routine.

The psychologist, whose name Elle did not ask but was Dr. Rowles, asked the pale young woman a question which he was reluctant to ask. It was his duty, though. The sacrifices often make things worse.

"Do you think you are insane?" Dr. Rowles asked calmly, obviously not showing his uncertainty.

Her eyes glowed like a tiger's, as if she had been brought to life. They sparkled dangerously with the air of a woman who had been through fire and ice. To Hell and back.

She sat up, flowing, like the wings of a hawk.

Like the wings of a predator.

"Insane, is what you asked?" she said loftily. "…What is insane, anyway? Is it being institutionalized? No…someone would have to go through an excitement of sorts to be here. No…it's something different. Something much scarier."

She took a breath and continued. Inside, this was her truth. Her unpredictability, was what fueled her in life…Kye had it too.

"Look at these people. Look at you. You'll be sitting here, in the same place, doing the same thing, ten years from now. About twenty years later…." she said with a sigh. "Younger people will want you out, you'll become superfluous to them, and you will be superannuated. You'll spend the rest of your precious days in some retirement home in America, or London perhaps, sitting in the sun, and reading the newspaper. And before you know it, one day, you will wake up, screaming in a cold sweat, suffocating, feeling absolute terror….and why is that?"

Elle stared directly into his eyes. It seemed to pierce him.

"Because you just realized what a waste your life has been…because when you die and end your life, the toilers at the River STYX will ask you…."

He was stone-tongued.

"Was your life worth living or was it like that of the slaves?"

She coolly glided from the small room and down the hall…

He was enraged. He was not a plastic, unreachable mind-player…someone who would turn someone inside out, have his methods turned against him, and then let them walk out. He had to think of something.

A lie was a good way to go. He bitterly thought to himself.

Why was everyone against her? It may seem delusional but only two were with her. Kye. Lyserg.

Thank you.

"Nurse…." he called slowly. The short-haired dark woman walked into the room.

"What is it?" her question was innocent.

He slapped himself mentally. "I fear that she's dangerous. You might want to give her some pills…or something."

"Yessir."

She walked from the room…solemnly, with the bottle in her hand.

Elle saw her, and just realized how easy it was to get away from this private little hell. The bottle the nurse was carrying was a bottle of vodka.

She wasn't going to do it. But Elle would like to do it herself.

"May I have that?" she said, pointing to a syringe hanging from the nurses' gray pocket. "You see, I've been having trouble, this patient is complaining of pains."

The nurse was already half-soused. Degenerate. Of course, maybe that was her escape.

Elle masquerade as a nurse, without a costume? The drunken woman did not see any reason why this young lady was not a nurse. She handed over the syringe, overflowing with an anesthetic that was most likely morphine.

Jeanne's elder sister flashed her a quick, bright, eccentric smile that was very common of her. For once in a long time, Elle was actually happy without knowing why.

When she returned to her room, a thinly disguised cell, she saw Lyserg on the floor playing with a paper pendulum…

Her hair blew with the air that came from the slam of the door.

The needle felt cool and refreshing against her soft skin as it penetrated her vein. The liquid flowed through her as she drifted into a dream reality that left her wondering…

"What truly is insanity?"

As soon as her voice said the immortal question, Elle saw Kye beside her.

"Morning my dearest."

"It's night." she responded.

"It's both." he said kindly.

"That sounds good."

A/N: Confusing yet again! Next chapter something very eventful happens, Jeanne's return! Oh just to tell you I myself am not sure if Kye was truly there or not, figure it out on your own!

Also, Satine89, I read all of the new chapters on Les Shamans Miserables, and they were wonderful, absolutely great. I especially liked when Marius/Marioh sang, All In My Heart…in the book that did not happen, but you're following the musical, right? Wunderbar work! I felt so badly for Eponine/Tamanine, and I liked how you added things! Mien gott!

I wonder how you shall tackle Javert/Lyvert's end later on….when will Gavroche make an appearance (unless I've missed it.)

Do you think squirrels eat ice cream? Thank you for reviewing and reading this story, SquirrelFraulein! Let's be friends, ok? I was not aware Marco's chapter in Waltz of the Pants was up! I have you on Author Alert but it didn't alert me, damnit!

Thanks guys…it feels so good to have friends! I can't E-Mail…. Being young sucks but then again I guess when you grow up you can't be young again, right?

JA NE FOR NOW- Neko-Neko Faust VIII


	14. Murder's Anniversary

Aisubeki Dearest

A/N: I wanted to take a break from the comedy I just finished, and do an OC fic concerning Marco…Yes, I do bash Marco quite a lot, and I pair him with Lyserg, whom I also like with Jeanne, and Ren…ah, so confusing. This is rather serious, and it's romantic as well! Yay! This story is dedicated to KagenoKatana, sakuuya, and Satine89! You are the best! I hope one of you reads this! Well, enjoy the story, and it may be a tearjerker in the end…gloom

PS: "Aisubeki" means "dearest" in Japanese, this word has a lot of meaning to the main character, Elle, and it shall be explained later on…moreover, if you are wondering why Kye is speaking a bit of Japanese to Elle, it is because he is teaching his little "French Tenshi." - Subarashiki, ne? (Kye will be introduced later on -) - Stay tuned, meh friends! Or..flamers! DIE FLAMERS! Sankyuu for reading and keeping with this outnumbered, disliked, lonely little fic of mine…

A/N: In this fic, I am pretending that Jeanne is somewhere around 20 years old, and Marco stays however old he is, ok? And if you were wondering, Elle is 23 and Kye is somewhere around 25 - Funny how age works, ne?

Disclaimer: I do not own SK, if I did, it would be ruined, because I am not gifted like Takei-sama.

Chapter Something (I honestly forgot which one it was): Anniversary

"Elle, wake up. It's my anniversary!" cried a joyful greenette, bursting through the young woman's groggy sleep with another exclaimation of, "Bonjour!"

She smiled softly, and shook her sleeping body from the tousled sheets, and quickly took on a puzzled expression. "Anniversary?" she yawned quietly.

He nodded with zeal, "Yes! My anniversary! Isn't today just so happy? It's my own very special holiday!" Lyserg looked at her with a pleading question in his eyes, "Would you celebrate with me?"

Still completely bewildered, Elle tried to process in her cloudy mind what exactly the holiday was. "The anniversary of what, exactly, Lyserg?" she rumpled his hair like a big sister.

Lyserg laughed weakly. "The anniversary….of when I killed my parents."

She stared at him, not terrified, not angry, not sad…total zero. So this was what it was like to feel nothing. Elle had always felt too violently, now she felt nothing at all….it was wonderful and bitter and sweet.

"Oh…" she murmured. "Alright, dearest…why don't we celebrate? It's an occasion after all."

Her large crimson eyes closed, and her long eyelashes fluttered against her cheek as the wind from an open window touched her skin…

Window?

She glanced over. "A hole…in the wall…."

Now the young boy looked melancholy, curled up in the corner whispering to himself, greeting the memories of his mother and father…he was the one who had killed them in a fire. The same way she herself had died. In a fire.

The empathy coursed through her violently, like a turbulent stream. Elle looked the hole, just big enough for someone Lyserg's size to fit through, and small enough to cover with a pillow from a bed…he did not belong here. He belonged frolicking in the open air, bathed in sun, regaining his childhood and forgetting the past…

She beckoned to him. "Lyserg, please would you do something for me?"

He touched her hand, it was ice-cold and trembling, whiter than the moon and though warm with the scent that reminded him of his mother….lavender?

Lyserg backed away, "You are not my mother. You can't tell me what to do." he drew himself to his full height, which was not very tall.

Elle still sat on the floor, unaffected and still smiling that betrayed smile of hers that drove him crazy. "You know what I want you to do. Do it. Trust me….I won't die on you. I won't let you set me on fire. I am the fire that never burns out, you can hurt me as much as you want…I won't stop. All I do is linger. I give you free license to do what you like with me…"

He stared at her blankly with the look of an idiot on his face. "Okay then….how about this, mother?" the thread of his frangible sanity had broken…he was on the edge and already falling. "How about this?"

She just stared at him as the lighter singed the air around her. He couldn't do it. And she knew.

Elle began to recite a verse…

"_The wind could throw…_

_It could stab._

_It could fell the wildflowers._

_Ivy creeps upon your sleeping eyes…_

_Is it though, suffocation that killed you?_

_Or is it the pain of a life never lived?_

_You ponder, you pour crimson._

_As the poppies befall you yourself…_

_More alone than anyone could ever aspire to be…_

_Longing for everlasting sleep._

_A goddess of light…"_

"I HATE YOU!" he screamed, his voice bouncing off the antiseptic walls. "I hate you and if you were my mother I'd kill you! I'd kill you over and over again! Let me leave!"

"That's what I want you to do." she whispered.

As he drew himself closer to the hole in the white wall, Lyserg boiled with rage. He felt the need to say goodbye to her, he knew she had made a sacrifice, however much he know despised her.

"Mother, I have a question for you…." Why was he calling her 'mother'? Elle was not his mother….but it was the memory of her that wracked his body with sobs, the same memories that made him cry for the young woman sitting calmly before him.

"What is it?" again her voice was toneless but loving, light and cold. She wondered vaguely what it felt like inside a glacier…

He pushed himself through the tunnel and stuck his head back in to bid her farewell.

"I think I'm going to look like you when I grow up….what do you think?"

As he ran away, Elle's emotions burst out, and she shuddered as she looked at him.

"You better pray to god not….you poor child…." her voice was full of sorrowful pity and regret. "You poor baby."

A/N: Turning point! This was a really important chapter, so the next one is also important! Time for Jeanne's re-entrance! Guess what happens? It's BIG! This story is almost over, only a little bit more to go. I have two other stories planned after this and Hoshiko, and I think I'll put off Shaman Idol 2 for a little bit….


	15. You Cannot Break A Blood Bond!

Aisubeki Dearest

A/N: I wanted to take a break from the comedy I just finished, and do an OC fic concerning Marco…Yes, I do bash Marco quite a lot, and I pair him with Lyserg, whom I also like with Jeanne, and Ren…ah, so confusing. This is rather serious, and it's romantic as well! Yay! This story is dedicated to KagenoKatana, sakuuya, and Satine89! You are the best! I hope one of you reads this! Well, enjoy the story, and it may be a tearjerker in the end…gloom

PS: "Aisubeki" means "dearest" in Japanese, this word has a lot of meaning to the main character, Elle, and it shall be explained later on…moreover, if you are wondering why Kye is speaking a bit of Japanese to Elle, it is because he is teaching his little "French Tenshi." - Subarashiki, ne? (Kye will be introduced later on -) - Stay tuned, meh friends! Or..flamers! DIE FLAMERS! Sankyuu for reading and keeping with this outnumbered, disliked, lonely little fic of mine…

A/N: In this fic, I am pretending that Jeanne is somewhere around 20 years old, and Marco stays however old he is, ok? And if you were wondering, Elle is 23 and Kye is somewhere around 25 - Funny how age works, ne?

Disclaimer: I do not own SK, if I did, it would be ruined, because I am not gifted like Takei-sama.

Chapter Fifteen: "You Cannot Break A Blood Bond."

Jeanne sat in silence, pulling into the austere driveway of the institution with a troubled sigh.

"A price for judgement?" she questioned herself. "Yes, Marco. Judgement Day will come, and you will no longer be a member of the X-Laws or my heart….."

The pain of love lost rung back and forth in her brain until she could take it no more. She knew the only way to solve it: to tell the truth.

"St. Perpetue of Sicily…preferred to have herself torn apart than to tell a lie…" Jeanne cast her eyes down in disgrace. "I would rather be torn apart than to tell the truth…."

And so the silver haired young woman, this angel, this saint, walked through the glass doors briskly, questioning her own faith….the thing that had sustained her for so long..

Passing the information desk, her crimson eyes, so like yet different from her dear eldest sisters', held the look of an innocent lion caged within the body of a woman. O daughters of chimeras….!

"Will you ever come back, fair prince Joseph?" drawled an incoherent, small, dark woman in a white shift lunging at her with passion.

'Are these the poor souls of which Elle is among them…?' she asked herself sadly.

Jeanne looked at her with the despair of an otherworldly saint. Yes, Jeanne was the saint, and Elle was the seraph. The sepulcher may have its enchantments…

But as would, the charming grave….

She reached Elle's room with a pang of dread in her pure heart.

Jeanne closed her eyes, fearing the worst and fearing the best as well….paradoxes seem confusing, but as they are in the eye of the beholder, they could make perfect sense to a jester and none to a sage.

The young woman was frightened by the unfamiliar sight of the poetess laying motionless on her bed, staring at the ceiling intently and pensively….turning it inside out in her mind. Her blankets were not covering her, she enjoyed the feeling of air caressing her skin, but were pushed to the side and her poetry book sat open on the floor.

Jeanne crept silently behind her sister, wondering if the eighth wonder of the world resided on that simple canvas and only Elle could view it….how strange her sister could be.

"Hello Jeanne." she said dreamily, getting up and ruffling her hair. Her skin was whiter than anything Jeanne had glimpsed in her life, her sister, was pale, weak, almost sickly looking.

Damned capitivity. Damned Marco. Damned everything….damn the whole world, it's all full of poison anyway.

"Oh…" she gasped slightly, finally regaining her attentions. "Hello Elle….elder sister. How are you doing?"

The young lady's eyes flashed like an imp's and she smiled grimly, "Oh, fine, thank you. That is, if you enjoy the splendour of antiseptic walls and not being able to see straight…" pausing, as if looking for a word, she sighed. "Add that to being wonderfully doped with anesthetics, anti-depressants, stimulants, and hallucinogenics all the while and I believe we might have a five-star vacation on our hands, don't we sister?"

Something was wrong with her. Her voice was weak, and she looked tired and peaky. The fatigue of imprisonment laid dormant but deadly in her gentle, free eyes.

The nun took a step back, looking at her sister as someone else might see her. Elle had, in the past few minutes, fell asleep in the past few minutes from the medications, and lay motionless on the bed, her breathing light and regular.

Jeanne remained looking at her in someone else's point of view…

Her hair spread out on the pillow in ruffles and ringlets, her long eyelashes, gold-brown like her hair, lay upon her cheek. Her body was graciously endowed with womanly curves in all the right places, and the white shift of the hospital had done nothing to conceal her body, hinting at the right places and showing others.

And yet…Jeanne could not help but think, no matter what she did, or how she was dressed, or what happened to her, Elle would never be vulgar, never be displeasing, never be old….

Elle would never be old because Jeanne would not let her become old. She was not meant to become old, and Elle knew it as well. She was going to die. She was going to die young and free and return back to the trees and mother earth who were her true kin and family.

How was Jeanne going to die? She would never know. Yes, like Elle she would always retain her heavenly beauty, but when and where she would die, and knowing she would never know when or where or why, frightened her. It penetrated the fair maiden to the bone.

Her weakness.

Her sister, so frail like a rose pelted by rain, stirred.

"Jeanne….I'm tired." Elle said weakly, not even lifting her head to speak.

She smiled gently, sensing the deterioration…but even Jeanne herself did not know how far it went…how dangerous it was….and how it would strike her like a snake.

"I know you are."

The room fell into an inexorable silence, the younger sister waiting in affectionate apprehension for the words of her sister.

"You know, no one can ever break our bond, sister."

"Our blood bond. Nobody can break up sisters, Elle."

"Of course, I've always known that. Je-Ne-Dieu, remember? I have always said, "I –Deny-God. Always…and you know what? I believe it's true…."

Jeanne felt herself close to tears. No, please no….

Don't take her away from me now….not my sister….I have so many memories waiting….she has so many things to do….please God of all Gods, don't take my sister Elle away.

"I deny God as well, now. He can't break our blood bond. We're sisters." she said, her crimson eyes brimming with tears.

Elle gave her a fading smile. "Jeanne?" she asked with an uncertain air. "Do you think you could sit down on my bed while I go to sleep…? I would like to speak to you, as sisters now…."

"Of course…." she looked at her with the same affection. "We've never spoken…as sisters…."

And just then, Jeanne knew what was going to happen.

"Don't break the bond now." she prayed frantically under her breath.

A/N: Be prepared for some twists and tearjerkers….00 The next chapter is sad….But don't worry! Because the ending-okay—it's just as confusing and sad and twisted as the rest of the story.

If I'm correct, I think this story has about three or four more chapters to go….

Ja Ne! (until I update next! ;)


	16. The Nymph Who Died In A Looking Glass

Aisubeki Dearest

A/N: I wanted to take a break from the comedy I just finished, and do an OC fic concerning Marco…Yes, I do bash Marco quite a lot, and I pair him with Lyserg, whom I also like with Jeanne, and Ren…ah, so confusing. This is rather serious, and it's romantic as well! Yay! This story is dedicated to KagenoKatana, sakuuya, and Satine89! You are the best! I hope one of you reads this! Well, enjoy the story, and it may be a tearjerker in the end…gloom

PS: "Aisubeki" means "dearest" in Japanese, this word has a lot of meaning to the main character, Elle, and it shall be explained later on…moreover, if you are wondering why Kye is speaking a bit of Japanese to Elle, it is because he is teaching his little "French Tenshi." - Subarashiki, ne? (Kye will be introduced later on -) - Stay tuned, meh friends! Or..flamers! DIE FLAMERS! Sankyuu for reading and keeping with this outnumbered, disliked, lonely little fic of mine…

A/N: In this fic, I am pretending that Jeanne is somewhere around 20 years old, and Marco stays however old he is, ok? And if you were wondering, Elle is 23 and Kye is somewhere around 25 - Funny how age works, ne?

Disclaimer: I do not own SK, if I did, it would be ruined, because I am not gifted like Takei-sama.

Chapter Sixteen: The Nymph Who Died In A Looking Glass

Marco sat in the red corvette, his heart burning with ugly regret, and overwhelming shame. The face of this implacable man, turned waxen and white from obsession, was strained with a foreboding worry.

Something flickered in his brain. Something that made Marco think like a clock. Tick, tock. Tick tock.

He could almost hear her light voice, taunting him….caressing him….suffocating him…he welcomed the loss of air…

'Hurry golden boy, her time's almost up…

We've taken what you'll miss the most

Where life's not worth living…

And dolls sing with feet of stone…

And hell walks laughing…'

Golden boy….golden boy…

"Damn it all!" he exclaimed with a rueful cry, running like a dervish into the white, unforgiving building as if the world were raining down on him.

'Golden boy, what's your name, at the top of the list?

As the lightning struck and maidens hissed

The dragon slept

It's going to be hell

As the joyful ringing, ringing, of the knell

Accompanies the dying symphony….'

In her room, he saw Jeanne, his poor Iron Maiden, falling apart in tears.

"Elle…dearest sister….please…" her eyes were pleading.

The blonde man, so conditioned by the new years of metal and war and technology, felt nothing. He felt nothing as Elle had felt nothing on Lyserg's anniversary. Total zero. It was sad…

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he looked down, silently sobbing, hoping no one could hear his cry….nobody heard Kye's cry, either…far in the depths of time and eternity, waiting for the bright light that waits in turn for him.

'Disillusionment can now begin…

As her bubble burst

And you fall

And maybe…you

Hear her song at the end

The song of death….?'

Elle opened her brilliant, earthy, garnet eyes slightly. "Oh, Marco is here now…." she said with an airy tone. "Marco, come over here."

And as he did, with a renewed strength she struck him. She struck him with all of the energy that remained in that fading, lovely body, and fell limp once more on the sterile pillow. Her eyes were open with awe of the world around her, finally trusting, finally being trusted.

Shocked, Marco stumbled backwards, but giving her a loving expression as he fell to his knees in despair. He had neither Jeanne nor Elle now.

"That is for my sister…." Elle whispered.

She was declining quickly, leaving Jeanne nothing to do but stand in helplessness and wait…Marco was in tears, Ell was also, in tears.

But in tears of joy….

"I hope I don't die here…." she sang to herself. "Not here."

Jeanne heard, not by ear, but by heart, and took Marco's hand. She slid it under Elle's body, the frail figure could not have weighed more than ninety pounds….what had happened to her?

His hands were warm and gentle carrying her, and his tears wet her skin with sorrow and affection as he carried her outside…Jeanne smiled at her beloved elder sister, she knew so much more than Jeanne would ever know. An innocent is, sometimes, more dangerous than a wiseman, and if so, Jeanne was a sharpened sword.

Harder than diamonds, softer than silk, their wills were opposite, yet the same as these two troubled clocks clicked slowly into one.

The sun shone down on her pale skin, and she felt herself slipping.

Elle took a look at her distraught younger sister's countenance and felt a painful pang of sorrow, "Jeanne, please, don't despair…I was dead anyway. Much before this I was dead."

Jeanne stared at her dumbly but inside, though it pained her, she knew what it meant and drew closer to her sister leaning against the fatherly oak.

"Every heart has a beginning and end, don't cry. Don't cry." she soothed Jeanne with the voice she read verse in. Wild, gentle, melancholy, and elevating. Loving, free, unique, dancing, sorrowful….Elle herself was all of these things and had always been…

And, so, 'How lovely,' she thought, 'To fade away among the grass and retreat into the earth….Thank you Jeanne, thank you. Thank you Marco.'

She rocked Jeanne back and forth like a child and all became quiet.

'The nymph who died in a looking glass….'

Marco also drew closer. This precious being who by the minute grew dearer and dearer to their hearts was declining before them and they could do nothing to stop it.

Resignedly, they gave in to the omnipotence of death and let it set its crown upon her lovely head.

Elle cushioned herself on the lush green grass of autumn, and gently held both Jeanne and Marco's hands, as the wind ruffled her hair.

With a sweet smile this tortured, kind, and sorrowful soul fluttered from its earthly shell, and sank into the motherly earth from whence it came…those white, slender hands stirred no more, and the brilliant eyes closed in calm freedom.

Moved to tears once more, her sister and unrequited lover sat in muffled silence as they watched for an angel with spread, tree-like wings to greet them once more and say farewell at the same time.

That was how it had always been, and how it would always be.

A/N: It isn't the end just yet! You'll definitely see more of Elle and definitely a lot more of Kye soon. And Marco and Jeanne! The ending to this story, is puzzling but sweet to me…so when you read it, I suppose you decide whether it's happy or not…

Yes, Squirrel Fraulein! I would love to be friends with you, it sounds fun, we'll keep in contact through reviews or if you can e-mail, e-mail me and if I plan it right I could send one back.

Satine89, yes it did seem like I was dead, but I wasn't…00 Umm—yeah, the collaboration fic thing just popped into my head. I can't e-mail either but sometimes I do when I have the chance. (i.e. grandmother not knowing.) So umm, yeah!

Bye, and I shall finish this story until the end! And Hoshiko, which I've been neglecting until this one is over!

Working on chapter seventeen, Neko-Neko Faust VIII


	17. My Beautiful Nightmare

Aisubeki Dearest

A/N: I wanted to take a break from the comedy I just finished, and do an OC fic concerning Marco…Yes, I do bash Marco quite a lot, and I pair him with Lyserg, whom I also like with Jeanne, and Ren…ah, so confusing. This is rather serious, and it's romantic as well! Yay! This story is dedicated to KagenoKatana, sakuuya, and Satine89! You are the best! I hope one of you reads this! Well, enjoy the story, and it may be a tearjerker in the end…gloom

PS: "Aisubeki" means "dearest" in Japanese, this word has a lot of meaning to the main character, Elle, and it shall be explained later on…moreover, if you are wondering why Kye is speaking a bit of Japanese to Elle, it is because he is teaching his little "French Tenshi." - Subarashiki, ne? (Kye will be introduced later on -) - Stay tuned, meh friends! Or..flamers! DIE FLAMERS! Sankyuu for reading and keeping with this outnumbered, disliked, lonely little fic of mine…

A/N: In this fic, I am pretending that Jeanne is somewhere around 20 years old, and Marco stays however old he is, ok? And if you were wondering, Elle is 23 and Kye is somewhere around 25 - Funny how age works, ne?

Disclaimer: I do not own SK, if I did, it would be ruined, because I am not gifted like Takei-sama.

Chapter Seventeen: My Beautiful Nightmare

'The sinners spell it out….the illusion of a fine love…."

Elle opened her eyes with a brilliant white light surrounding her.

As she adjusted her frazzled vision, she shifted comfortably, serene and self-possessed in a place that seemed of nothingness. As she would be.

Thinking of her sister Jeanne, and Marco, she smiled in the blinding whiteness, knowing she had left them to what was her wish for her sister: happiness.

Elle knew there would be no funeral for her, no remembrance, no obituary, no notice of her death. And with that thought she smiled once more. The tangled, delicate grass was her coffin; the flowers that would grow from her shell would be the obituary, the trees would be her priests. The ever-kind, omniscient druids.

And now, she realized, just how alone she was. And how alone she would always be. Like she was in a bubble watching this blank world, and nobody could hear her, or see her. Nobody knew her, and she knew no one. '

Nothing had color, or sound or sight. But she could see. She could hear. And the law couldn't touch her. Not the laws of man, of humanity, or of gravity, as she floated mercurial.

Testing to see if she could hear herself, she repeated a well-remembered verse from the days of bygone fire.

'_He is asleep. Though his mettle was sorely tried._

_He lived, and when he lost his angel, died._

_It happened calmly, on its own._

_Like the way night comes when day is done.'_

Trying to remember the book in which she had read it, Elle turned her mind inward….agonizing, wracking her memory for something.

This was the first time she had remembered something in so long….all this time, Elle had tried to forget….and she could not. She could not forget, she could not remember, life was a paradox in whole.

"Les….Miserables…." she whispered, forming the words.

A cutting red light ripped through the seams of the perfect whiteness.

"Les Miserables? …Is it that you speak of us?" said a gentle, rough voice.

She turned around in shock.

"…Kye….?"

All of the color that had been lost came back to her cheeks, her eyes sparkled like darkened rubies, and the wind, as if from nowhere, swept her hair, and swept her, into his arms.

"Dearest…." she looked elated. In ectasy.

"We're a funny pair aren't we…?" he laughed morosely, holding his beloved affectionately, and staring into her eyes.

Elle questioned him with a puzzled expression.

"All these years…all these pains and trials and tribulations, and still….still we are dying." he looked not at her, but through her. There was nothing behind her to look at, Elle thought, there is nothing behind me.

"Why are we dying? I see nothing." she said calmly, but with a pang of surprised hurt in her tone…Kye had never seen her like this. So weak and vulnerable.

Back in the rolling purple moors where she had seen him again, he had known this was her last chance, her last life, and after that…who knows…this was her last hour.

So many finalities, so much sorrow. All laid upon her at once. Elle shattered. She knew by the look on his honest countenance.

"…Elle….open your eyes." he said, his voice quivering.

She closed her eyes, and opened them once more only to wish she had kept them closed.

This was the beginning and the ending of her beautiful nightmare, and Kye knew it would be his as well….

A/N: Okay! Next chapter, I think, is the last! Either that or maybe one after that! I'm getting so close to the end and I think I've almost made a friend out of Elle, which is scary, since she doesn't exist. (or does she?)

To Squirrel Fraulein: Yes, of course I would love to e-mail back and forth! I'm getting my own address soon, since I'm getting a computer of just my own….Here is my current e-mail, don't make fun of it, it's my grandmother's, okay: anyone else uses this, except Satine89 if she can, and if you ask me first, I shall find demons of the netherworld and psychotic bunnies and squirrels to hunt you down and rip your flesh off of your bones.

E-mail me first, okay Squirrel Fraulein? Because I don't know YOUR e-mail address. I'll check the profile though….so you e-mail me or I e-mail you or…(24 hours later….)

Thank you for liking Elle's character so much! I like her as well!

Bye-Bye! (I'm preparing to cry for the next chapter….TT)


	18. The Melody Eluded

Aisubeki Dearest

A/N: I wanted to take a break from the comedy I just finished, and do an OC fic concerning Marco…Yes, I do bash Marco quite a lot, and I pair him with Lyserg, whom I also like with Jeanne, and Ren…ah, so confusing. This is rather serious, and it's romantic as well! Yay! This story is dedicated to KagenoKatana, sakuuya, and Satine89! You are the best! I hope one of you reads this! Well, enjoy the story, and it may be a tearjerker in the end…gloom

PS: "Aisubeki" means "dearest" in Japanese, this word has a lot of meaning to the main character, Elle, and it shall be explained later on…moreover, if you are wondering why Kye is speaking a bit of Japanese to Elle, it is because he is teaching his little "French Tenshi." - Subarashiki, ne? (Kye will be introduced later on -) - Stay tuned, meh friends! Or..flamers! DIE FLAMERS! Sankyuu for reading and keeping with this outnumbered, disliked, lonely little fic of mine…

A/N: In this fic, I am pretending that Jeanne is somewhere around 20 years old, and Marco stays however old he is, ok? And if you were wondering, Elle is 23 and Kye is somewhere around 25 - Funny how age works, ne?

Disclaimer: I do not own SK, if I did, it would be ruined, because I am not gifted like Takei-sama.

Chapter Eighteen: The Melody Eluded

Fire blazed around them, an unearthly fire that flew to the rafters of an old, decaying building. They cringed in silence, but were comforted immediately.

"This familiar pain…" Elle whispered to herself, sitting down and laying her head on Kye's warm shoulder.

Though the fire was present, it did not reach them. The iridescent, seducing smoke billowed like a ship's sail around them, and blanketed them.

Her eyelids grew heavy, but she could not sleep.

"I…" she said dreamily amidst the serene chaos. "I'll never regret this…you know that, don't you?" her eyes brimmed with hope and despair.

He held Elle close, just as he wished he had so long ago. He lead himself to ask why he could not die with her. Why he had asked her to confess for him. Why…he had…condemned her….

"I…love you, Elle." the black-haired young man said finally.

Elle looked at him softly and caressed his cheek. The skin was rough, and she did not take away her white hand.

'Is this what it means to grow old?' she slowly asked herself.

The young woman shook her head with a slight laugh, 'I'll never know….but that way…it's…comforting…'

He was on the brink of crying. Silent cries wracked his handsome body and he drew her closer to himself.

'His cheek is roughened by the passing of time…we're the same age….why does it not happen to me?'

He stroked her hair, and she wrapped her arms around him. His tears trickled onto her shoulder.

'Why is that?'

"I love you, you will always be my beloved where-ever you are, Elle…." he whispered. "Even in the end, you'll always be my dearest. Itsumo."

She gave him that familiar smile, as if he were joking with her. "Don't make it sound like last words….this isn't the end. It never will be."

Kye just looked at her sympathetically. 'Oh God….that poor child. That poor girl…' he paused and screamed at himself in his mind. 'What have I done!'

It seemed like an eternity they lingered in that paradoxical heaven of smoke and fire….

Just like a life can seem like a thousand years. Or two seconds…

"I'm tired…." Elle slurred quietly, embracing her dearest.

He nodded slowly, and guiltily, "Then sleep." he said, in affection.

"But I don't want to….I don't want to leave you." she sounded like a desperate child holding onto her mother's skirt.

All fell silent for a few precious seconds….the smoke was making their eyes tear, and agonizingly Kye clung to life, and Elle, to him.

"…Do you think we should sleep?" Elle said uncertainly.

He nodded, barely able to raise his handsome head.

"Let's go to sleep." she whispered in sorrowful love, trying hard not to cry.

"Alright…."

The hazy darkness of the smoke let them float in a crimson, rosy stupor. There was something about it….something…not quite fatal….

But it was.

Out of the darkness came her plaintive moan. "Kye….?"

"Mm…" Kye showed his slipping presence.

"Do you want to sing with me?"

Elle waited for an answer.

But he was long asleep….

And dead.

'_Deep in the darkness of time, my love…_

_Deep in the darkness of time…_

_The roses are burning,_

_With your illusory light…_

_A wish was never granted…_

_Your happiness never given…_

_And so I wait…_

_Deep in the darkness of time, my love…._

_Deep in the darkness of time…_

_Your coffin grows closer_

_And your blood waters flowers from the dead, my love…_

_I'll water them with my tears.._

_Mm…_

_With the lost tears in heaven….'_

"That was the verse….I could never remember…." she said to herself as she too slumbered.

A/N: This was not the last chapter! Almost though! Almost! The next chapter shall be the last…

This chapter was so sad….it made me want to cry…

Don't fret about the ending as of yet! It might be happy or sad or both! If you review, please guess which one it will be!

Farewell, onto the next chapter!


	19. My Dearest

Aisubeki Dearest

A/N: I wanted to take a break from the comedy I just finished, and do an OC fic concerning Marco…Yes, I do bash Marco quite a lot, and I pair him with Lyserg, whom I also like with Jeanne, and Ren…ah, so confusing. This is rather serious, and it's romantic as well! Yay! This story is dedicated to KagenoKatana, sakuuya, and Satine89! You are the best! I hope one of you reads this! Well, enjoy the story, and it may be a tearjerker in the end…gloom

PS: "Aisubeki" means "dearest" in Japanese, this word has a lot of meaning to the main character, Elle, and it shall be explained later on…moreover, if you are wondering why Kye is speaking a bit of Japanese to Elle, it is because he is teaching his little "French Tenshi." - Subarashiki, ne? (Kye will be introduced later on -) - Stay tuned, meh friends! Or..flamers! DIE FLAMERS! Sankyuu for reading and keeping with this outnumbered, disliked, lonely little fic of mine…

A/N: In this fic, I am pretending that Jeanne is somewhere around 20 years old, and Marco stays however old he is, ok? And if you were wondering, Elle is 23 and Kye is somewhere around 25 - Funny how age works, ne?

Disclaimer: I do not own SK, if I did, it would be ruined, because I am not gifted like Takei-sama.

Chapter Nineteen: My Dearest

She lay in flowers, her eyes open and glowing with sorrow.

Elle looked around her, the ground was covered in flowers, and the blossoms from the willows danced about her in the wind. The grass, lush and green, was her pillow. The flowers her unearthly blanket.

She had returned to the earth.

Gone was the smoke and the fire. Gone was the death, the rotting, the tears, the agony and delirium. Gone was betrayal by man and gone…

Was her dearest.

Undisturbed, she lay down, her oaken-gold hair laying in ruffles around her, like a deserted goddess of the forlorn.

Now the sun shone down on her body, and paradise was here, as she watched the fluffy clouds fly over her dusky crimson eyes. The only word that went through her head was…

'Why?'

Elle mouthed it aloud in her distraught voice.

Desperately, and slowly, the young woman threw flower petals in the breezes that whirled softly around her, and saw stone.

Big enough to fit a human inside, shaped like a coffin and with the leprosy of time covering it in moss, the macabre beauty of it all engaged her to touch it.

She struck gentle fingers on its surface. Tracing letters, she read them.

His name was apparent as she recoiled and threw herself upon the grass and flowers.

Tears trickled down a white cheek as she clutched the flowers in her hand. Elle opened her hand to find they were crushed.

'So this…is how fragile life is….' she thought to herself. 'This is how fragile he was….'

Throwing desperately the flowers to the ground, Elle plaintively questioned aloud, "Why?…Why is he not alive, while I breathe?"

She received no answer and grew uncontrollably sad.

Tears cascaded down her cheeks but no color came to her face, she was white. White with the radiance of not living or dying.

"WHY!" she screamed, crows fluttering away from their perches.

And though no words came, Elle knew.

'I never existed, did I?' she questioned with a wry, despairing smile, 'I've been here all along…Kye has existed….and I haven't…'

Walking shakily to the coffin that caged the beloved, she laid atop it, covered in roses.

'Then why did he see me? Why did…everyone see me….?'

'Am I a dream, or are they?' she paused, 'No…I…am not a dream. Neither or they. But I might be….I might be a….'

She looked to the willows that lay in arches over her for guidance.

'Am I…'

Suddenly she stopped, not wanting to know the answer and embracing the stony surface for comfort. Elle smiled warmly at the coffin amidst all the flowers, knowing he rested contently.

'I'm a phantom aren't I?'

'No.' said a voice that she recognized. 'You're nothing…you're only my dearest.'

It was him.

His black hair ruffled in the wind, he walked toward her with the same smile she wore. Desolate, melancholy, and one of all-consuming love.

This was their solace and their prize.

Without a word, he laid down with her on the ebony casket and embraced her.

Elle did not weep. She smiled and closed her eyes, flowers entombing the both of them.

"I will love you forever. And this isn't the end." he whispered.

"No….it's our beginning…" she whispered slowly, as if by song.

No more was said.

Moving closer, their mouths met. A kiss covered in flowers, with a gentle scent…serenaded by the wind's breath…unmoving, unblinking. Walking in a dream of ecstasy….

Eternity.

"My dearest…." they whispered in Paradise.

The Beginning

A/N: It's such a happy ending for them…they've gone through so much….and now though, doesn't it seem sad?

I hoped you enjoyed this story, and I'm kind of sad to see it end…almost…

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed it and stayed with it, especially Satine89, and Squirrel Fraulein! Thank you!

Farewell all of you, it's their beginning but this story's end, so now I should end it.

The End

TTFN!


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